


Forgotten

by InnerSpectrum



Series: February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge [21]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge, Tissue Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29699703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: When the last one is gone...
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138172
Comments: 9
Kudos: 38
Collections: February 2021 Johnlock prompt challenge from ohlooktheresabee





	Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> February 2021 Johnlock Prompt Challenge from ohlooktheresabee. Prompt: Forget

The sun was out. Winter had finally released its grip on London and being outside no longer required multiple layers. It was a good day.

Mycroft Holmes stood at the door and watched at the group seated around a chess table in the garden.

Mrs. Rosie Abbingdon, née Holmes-Watson, pushed back at the loose curls, now more silver than blond, as she gave a teasing warning to the fallacy of the move about to be made. Her opinion was met with faux derision by her father, whose own hair went silver long ago, an aged hand released his knight on the board sealing his fate.

The formerly dark riot of curls of Sherlock Holmes, now more salt than pepper mix, shook in amusement as he also bemoaned the chosen play. 

Mycroft had to agree. The game would be over in less than ten moves. They all knew it. Then again, it was never about win or lose between the two players. It was always about the company, the long-standing kinship between them; the love.

He was about to button his coat and join them when his eyes flicked over at the sudden change in Rosie’s expression as she stood. It was fleeting as she smiled at her father and nodded at something he said, but he saw it. 

Sherlock also stood a moment later and John began to set up the board for a new game as someone else sat down.

Mycroft understood then it had finally happened.

He stepped aside as they entered.

“Papa… We knew it would happen…” Rosie tried to speak, her blue eyes just like her biological father’s, barely held back the tears that welled, “Still…” She looked helplessly from her uncle to her other father, “We’ve been here nearly three hours and… not even once… Oh god, Daddy!”

“Yes, we knew…” Sherlock pulled his daughter into his arms. "I was the last one…”

“Sherlock…?” The ninety-three-year-old Mycroft reached out and touched his eighty-six-year-old little brother.

Sherlock looked back at the aide that now sat with his husband. Sherlock’s voice cracked; he did not try to hide the tears that slid from his still crystalline eyes.

“John… He's... I'm gone... He doesn't remember me anymore…” 


End file.
